


Running

by QueenCamellia



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Can Be Read As Romantic, Gen, Mostly Gen, momoi needs more love, momoi-centric, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-14 18:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14141577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCamellia/pseuds/QueenCamellia
Summary: “You guys can win without me, anyways.”Momoi Satsuki quits her position as Teiko’s basketball club manager in their third year.The Generation of Miracles is disconcerted to find that things just...aren’t the same without her.GOM/Satsuki ish, more Gen ish





	1. Chapter 1

Momoi Satsuki was more than just her ample chest. She was more than just the “annoying girl who hung around Aomine Daiki” or the “girl with the annoying voice that squealed whenever Kuroko Tetsu came by.”

And she was _definitely_ more than just the Generation of Miracle’s manager.

Momoi Satsuki was intelligent. Momoi Satsuki was caring. And Momoi Satsuki could be manipulative, calculative, and ruthless when she wanted to be — or when she was required to be. Throughout her second year of middle school, Satsuki lied, cheated, and stalked...all for the sake of their team.

She was alright with that. She didn’t mind at all. Her morals had never been as strong as her love for _her boys._ That was who they were: her stubborn, stupid, dorky boys that would laugh and ruffle her hair after practice, thanking her for the drinks she brought and teasing her for her short stature. She would do anything to make her boys happy.

But somewhere along the line, they stopped being her boys. Satsuki didn't know what kind of monsters had replaced the boys she treasured _(loved)_ , but their arrogant smirks and the devastating scoreboard left an empty feeling...no, a _hollow void_ in her chest.

She tried pushing on for her boys, hoping they'd come back to her in time. But instead, they kept moving forward, leaving her behind. Soon, they were called the Generation of Miracles, and Satsuki was nothing more than their manager. It was funny, in a way: Satsuki was even more forgotten than Kuroko, the phantom sixth man. She was the backstage helper, the assistant, the background character...essentially _nothing._

The lack of recognition from the fans didn't bother her: it was a good thing, in a way. Plenty of Teiko girls were jealous because Satsuki got to spend time with their idols, but at least girls from other schools didn't harass her. Satsuki was _strong_ (she had to be, for them) and the barbed insults and whispered jeers never bothered her.

What _did_ bother her was her team’s growing apathy. Gone were the days of sharing ice cream and victorious team dinners. Instead, after every match, Satsuki walked quietly _(three steps behind everyone else)_ and listened to them laugh about their “weak” opponents. When _(if)_ someone turned to glance at her about her questionable silence, Satsuki would plaster a _(fake)_ smile on her face and coo about “Tetsu-kun’s” coolness to divert their attention from her.

...speaking of which...

“Oi, Satsuki, you listening to us?”

Satsuki blinked, then flushed and gave the team a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I spaced out! What was that, Aomine-kun?”

He scowled at the title, but Satsuki couldn't bring herself to call him Dai-chan. This wasn't the bright, vivacious Dai-chan of her youth. This wasn't the boy who loved basketball with his heart and soul, the boy who would treat everyone with subtle kindness, the boy who cared about spending time about his friends rather than winning. “Tetsu said you've been quiet lately.”

Tetsu-kun nodded, his eyes flickering with the faintest amount of worry. “Is something the matter, Momoi-san?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she laughed, waving off their concern. “I’m just thinking.”

“You _think,_ Satsuki?” Aomine scoffed.

 _“Hey,_ that’s mean!” Satsuki protested, pouting. “I was in very deep thought, you know.”

“Uh- _huh.”_

“Don’t be mean to Momocchi, Aominecchi,” Kise scolded, immediately stirring up a flurry of protest from the navy blue-haired player about how he was simply being _honest,_ thank you very much. Satsuki couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on her features as she watched the scene, nostalgia threatening to overwhelm her. It almost felt as if they were back in their second year when everything was _fun_ and they were a _team_ …

Satsuki blinked when she realized that her phone had a notification. Sneaking a glance at her bickering teammates, she opened up the message. _Ahh, it’s from Micchan…_

Arai Miki and Kikuchi Atsuko were Satsuki’s only female friends, as they similarly were harassed because of their basketball manager statuses. Satsuki had taken to complaining to them about the change in her team’s dynamics: even though they were the second and third string managers, they could somewhat relate. The coaches drove everyone harder as Teiko’s prestigious basketball club grew in fame.

**[MICCHAN]: I think...I’m going to quit.**

_Quit?_ Satsuki resisted the urge to gasp out loud, instead swiping open her friend’s contact and calling her. Midorima sent her a questioning glance, but Satsuki shrugged and mouthed _“girl stuff”_ to deter him. “Gotta take a call!” she declared cheerfully, waving at them as they all dispersed their separate ways. “Aomine-kun, go on without me.”

“Goddammit woman, stop calling me that,” Aomine grumbled. Even so, he obliged, throwing his bag over his shoulder and walking away to give her some privacy. Satsuki had to hide her grin as she noticed him plop on a bench and slouch sulkily: even now, he still waited to walk her home. That was...well, _something,_ right?

_“Hello?”_

“Ahh, Micchan! Are you okay? Are you feeling unwell?” Satsuki asked, biting her lip. “Why...what’s the matter? Why would you say such a thing?”

 _“...Satsuki, I can’t do this...the second string members are just so_ bitter. _”_

“Bitter?”

_“Do you know that three members turned in resignation forms yesterday? They...they think that they’re worthless, just because they can’t match up to the Generation of Miracles. It’s getting really bad there, Satsuki...either they’re all pretentious snobs who think they’re cool because they’re part of Teiko, or they’re depressed idiots who hate basketball…”_

Satsuki...wasn’t able to say anything to that. Her breath caught in her throat. “Micchan, I’m so sorry…”

_“Satsuki...your team...I know you love them, but can’t you get them to tone things down? I was talking with Atsuko...it’s not just our team members who are feeling disheartened, you know. Losing...losing a basketball match usually isn’t bad, but losing that badly…”_

“It’s not their fault they can’t keep up,” came out of Satsuki’s mouth automatically, an echo of what Aomine had grumbled earlier.

Micchan’s voice was indignant, the disappointed note in her voice practically slapping her in the face. _“Satsuki, listen to yourself! Do you realize how arrogant that sounds?”_

Satsuki winced. “But...it’s true…”

 _“Satsuki…”_ Micchan’s voice softened, sounding almost nostalgic. Reminiscent. Desperate. _“Do you remember that day when you, Atsuko, and I became friends? We all sat together on the school rooftop during lunch, chatting about our team members. I asked you why you signed up to be a manager. Do you remember your answer?”_

As a matter of fact, Satsuki _did._ It wasn’t to help her teammates win. It wasn’t to stay with Dai-chan. It wasn’t even to pursue Tetsu-kun. The reason she had signed up as manager...it was to support them. She had wanted to support her boys.

The realization struck her like lightning, and for a moment, Satsuki couldn’t breathe. She...she didn’t need them to win. She didn’t even _want_ them to win. The reason she had joined was to help them _smile..._ but now, even winning left them unsatisfied. “I wanted...to make them smile,” she answered softly, her voice wavering. “Micchan...when did I forget?”

 _“Idiot,”_ Micchan said fondly. _“You never did. You always wanted to make them smile, but you just started associating winning with smiling.”_

“Micchan...how do I make them smile?” She swallowed down a wave of panic. When was the last time she saw her team _(her boys)_ smiling? When was the last time she heard them all laugh together...genuinely?

_“You know them better than me, Satsuki.”_

Micchan was right, as always. “Micchan, thank you,” she said softly. “Do you...do you really need to quit? Are you okay with that?”

Like dominoes, her friend’s strong facade crumbled quickly. _“I’m not...but what else do I do? I can’t watch them destroy themselves like this, Satsuki...I can’t. Maybe...maybe they’ll be happier this way. Or maybe leaving will give them a wakeup call.”_

Satsuki was silent for a few moments, then she declared, “I’ll quit, too.”

Silence.

_“...Satsuki, stop joking.”_

Satsuki shook her head, even though she knew her friend couldn’t see the movement. “Maybe...maybe they’ll learn. Even if not...I can’t do this anymore, Micchan. I haven’t seen them smile for...what seems like _ever,_ and despite my best efforts, I can’t make them smile. Besides, friends have to stick together, right?”

_“What about Aomine-kun? Or Kuroko-san? You love Kise, Midorima, Murasakibara, and Akashi too.”_

“Either they figure out the problem that caused me to leave, or they’ll learn to deal with it,” Satsuki answered, her gaze determined and grip on her phone tightening. “I’m not a doormat, Micchan. I know Tetsu-kun might be trying to help them, but I _know_ that whatever I do in that club won’t be enough. No amount of information gathering or sports drinks will snap them out of it…”

_“Satsuki…”_

“Don’t feel guilty, Micchan,” Satsuki chirped, sensing her friend’s guilt easily. Satsuki was trained to read people, after all. “You...you just opened up my eyes. I stayed in the club because I kept naively trying to believe that they’d come back to me without any effort on my part. It’s time I do something...or at least try to do something.”

_“But Kuroko-san might be able to—”_

“Tetsu-kun’s shy,” Satsuki sighed woefully. “He won’t speak up...until things get _really_ bad, probably. And the rest of them...aren’t the same. Say, if we’re going to quit tomorrow...how about we meet up tomorrow evening to buy bath powders?”

Her friend could obviously tell she was changing the subject, but kindly chose to ignore Satsuki’s awkward segue. _“Sure. I’ll call Atsuko. Six, maybe?”_

“Sure! See you later, Micchan!” Satsuki beamed, shutting her phone. Strolling to the bench where her childhood friend still sat, she giggled and tried not to think about resignation just yet. “Ne, Aomine-kun, thanks for waiting.”

“You talked for way too long, idiot,” Aomine complained, shouldering his bag and standing up. They headed off back home in relative silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one: they knew each other for way too long to feel uncomfortable. But Satsuki basked in the presence of her childhood friend walking alongside her.

_I can be selfish...for just a little more, right?_

“Ne, Dai-chan,” she said suddenly, the usage of his nickname catching his attention. “Remember how we played basketball together when we were younger?”

Aomine craned his neck to his right to stare at her questioningly. Thankfully, he must’ve read something in her eyes, for he didn’t question her. “Yeah, you sucked,” he deadpanned.

Satsuki closed her eyes and exhaled. “Can we play like that again? Just once more.”

Aomine scoffed, unaware of the brewing storm inside of her. “Idiot, what are you going on for? Feeling nostalgic or something?”

Satsuki had to control her expression before her face fell. “I guess,” she replied, shrugging. Her chest hurt, just a little. “Forget it, _Ahomine.”_

“Oi!”

Satsuki smiled.

* * *

 

Satsuki considered mailing in her resignation. She considered possibilities from dramatically stuffing a letter into Akashi’s locker to declaring her resignation from the top of the school. Finally, she decided that they at least deserved for her to deliver her resignation forms in person. She owed them that much...even if doing so would be infinitely more painful.

Walking into the gym with her resignation forms, Satsuki did not let herself waver. She did not let herself reconsider her decision, and she did not let herself falter because of her teammates’ presence. They were already preoccupied running laps, anyways, so they weren’t paying attention to her. She approached Coach Sanada easily, asking softly if she could speak with him privately. The man easily obliged: even though she wasn’t an integral member of the team, he respected Satsuki for her information gathering skills. They moved to the end of the bleachers, far enough from the courts so nobody else would eavesdrop.

“Coach Sanada, I formally apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for agreeing to talk to me,” Satsuki said politely, bowing and offering her resignation forms to him. Her bangs shielded her expression from sight, but she knew that the coach had taken the papers and was staring at her. “I humbly request of you permission to leave the club.”

“Momoi-san...is there a problem that I should be addressing?”

_Yes, tell those idiots to pull their heads out of their asses._

“No, sir. With all due respect, I believe that I should seek out new prospects elsewhere. Acting as the club’s manager has been an enriching experience, but I would like to broaden my knowledge and expand myself by trying new things,” she declared, still bowing. “I’d like to express my thanks for all of the knowledge you’ve shared with me, but I hope you can support my desire to improve myself. I believe that the team can suffice without me.”

_Bullshit and lies._

“Momoi-san...the team likes you, you know.”

Satsuki straightened her back, her eyes meeting his fiercely. “But they don’t need me,” she said, shaking her head. “And I shouldn’t need them.” _But I do. I shouldn’t._

Coach Sanada’s shoulders slumped, and she knew she had placed another heavy burden on his shoulders. She tried not to squirm guiltily. “If this is really what you want, Momoi-san, then there is no use in stopping you…you were a wonderful manager, and those boys were lucky to have you. Good luck in your future endeavors.”

“Thank you for your guidance, coach,” she repeated, bowing once more. Then, she flashed him a smile and pivoted on her heel. Eyes darting to the basketball court, Satsuki lingered unsurely for a moment. She briefly considered heading to the team to say goodbye, but that would’ve felt too final. _(She wasn’t confident in her strength...she wasn’t sure if she could withstand their pleas and questions. Satsuki would not give in. She wouldn’t, for their sake.)_

“It’s for the best,” she whispered, turning away and strolling out of the gym. To her delight, she saw a girl with short raven hair waiting outside. “Aw, _Micchan!_ Did you wait for me?” she cooed, skipping to her friend cheerily. The ex-manager of Teiko’s second string hardly reacted when Satsuki hugged her, sighing and pulling back.

“Satsuki...will you be okay?” she asked.

Satsuki’s smile wavered. “I...will be. It’s for the best.” _Right?_

“Will... _they_ be okay?”

“Of course,” Satsuki scoffed, unintentionally sounding like her childhood friend as she scowled and turned away. Her hands felt infinitely lighter without the pile of papers she usually lugged around. Somehow, that thought left her feeling a bit sad.  “They’ll be fine. They can win with or without me, anyways.” And that was all that mattered to them.

Her female companion stared at her warily, but sighed, relenting, “Alright, you. Let’s head to the mall. Atsuko’s probably waiting there already.”

* * *

 

Of _course,_ it was Aomine who found out first. Or, at the very least, he was the first one to approach her about the matter. “Oi, Satsuki! What the hell?” he demanded, barging into the classroom. He was as dramatic as ever. “Why’d that old geezer say you retired?”

“I didn't retire, idiot, I quit. And Coach Sanada is your _coach_. Show some respect,” Satsuki scolded him, rolling her eyes and returning to her book. “Why don't you sit down? Class is starting.”

“Idiot,” he growled, “Stop screwing around. You love basketball.”

Satsuki paused, tilted her head, and turned to stare at him in the eyes. “I did,” she agreed. Then, she unceremoniously turned back around, clearly ignoring him as she opened her book once again. Her childhood friend knew her well enough to take her unspoken hints.

“Dammit, Satsuki!” Aomine cursed, stomping out of the classroom. “I'm telling the others.”

Satsuki sighed, not bothering to turn around as her childhood friend stomped out of the classroom. She flipped the page melancholically.

* * *

 

Satsuki was ambushed by Kise on her way to P.E. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t pleased when she felt a weight slam into her and somebody wrapped their arms around her. “Momocchi! Why'd you leave?”

“Kise-san” she acknowledged, smiling at him, her eyebrow twitching out of irritation. She slipped out of his arms and stepped back a few steps to properly face him. Satsuki was annoyed to note that she had to tilt her head upwards to look at him eye to eye: he had grown taller, as had all the boys. “How have you been?”

“Kise _-san?”_ Kise repeated, scandalized. “Momocchi, why are you being so cold?”

“I'm not being _cold:_ I'm just being more formal. We're not club members anymore, so I shouldn't address you so informally.”

Kise scowled, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. “Kun.”

She shook her head, fighting against the wave of nostalgia that hit her. “San.”

“Kise-kun,” he demanded.

 _“Kise-san,”_ she countered.

“Kun.”

 _“Ki-chan,”_ Satsuki begged, refusing to let tears well in her eyes. She had to stay strong: she would not rejoin the club, no matter the brokenhearted expressions the blonde gave her. Conversing with him this way felt too much like old times… “Please...leave.”

“Momocchi...are you...okay?”

She couldn't do this. She couldn’t do this. _She couldn’t do this._

Satsuki suppressed a sob, running past a frozen Kise Ryouta.

“Mo...mo...cchi?”

* * *

 

“Momoi-san.”

“Tetsu-kun,” she returned weakly, swinging her legs awkwardly as she sat on the park bench. “Shouldn’t you be in class right now? Why...why are you...here?”

As always, his expression didn’t change. Only _they_ could elicit reactions out of him: Kuroko had always seen Satsuki through slightly different lens. She was just Aomine’s friend, an accessory. “Kise-kun told me that you were crying. He was clearly distressed,” he explained impassively.

“Tetsu-kun…”

“I want them back, too.”

Satsuki froze, bit her lip, and stared intently at her feet. “You really can read people well, Tetsu-kun,” she complimented him, her eyes suspiciously watery. “Man, I’m acting...I...I’m sorry, Tetsu-kun. I’m sorry for abandoning you all, but I’m not as strong as you.”

“Momoi-san…”

“I admire you so much, you know? To stay with them even though...they’re all like this. Our team’s falling apart,” she admitted, blinking back tears again. “And I couldn’t stand it. I tried fooling myself into thinking that I was quitting for a noble cause, you know? _Maybe they’ll realize how stupid they’re being if I quit,_ I told myself. But I was just trying to make excuses...just trying to find a reason to run away…”

“Momoi-san.” Kuroko’s tone was urgent enough for her to look up. “Momoi-san,” he repeated softly, crouching down so he could look at her properly. “It’s okay to cry.”

Satsuki stared at him for a long moment, feeling something uncomfortable well in her chest. Then, she broke into loud, ugly sobs, wiping at her face and crying loud enough to make any passerbys give them a wide berth. “I miss them, Tetsu-kun! I miss them the way they were. I kept hoping that everyone would stick together because of basketball, but it’s just breaking them apart!” She laughed through her tears, chattering, “And I c-can’t d-do a-anyt-thing a-about it…”

She missed walking home together. She missed sharing ice cream with them. She missed hearing them _laugh_ and smile while playing basketball. She missed _her team._

“Momoi-san…”

“Dai-chan doesn’t hang out with me anymore,” Satsuki confessed. “Rarely, anyways. I don’t talk with anyone except for a few texts to announce club activities. They’re winning...I should be happy for them, right? But somehow, I just feel as if I’m being left behind. It’s...it’s so lonely, you know? Staying with that club just makes me feel lonelier…I can’t do it, Tetsu-kun. I’m sorry.”

As if something had broken inside her, she threw her head back in the air and _laughed._ “I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m sorry, Tetsu-kun...everyone...”

“That’s enough, Momoi-san,” Kuroko said softly. “If...if this sport causes you that much pain...you shouldn’t come back.”

There had been a selfish part of her that still _wanted_ them to ask her back. Satsuki knew that she _should_ have felt happy or relieved that Kuroko was considering her feelings, but… “I don’t think I can come to the championships this year,” she said faintly. Her ears were ringing: she almost couldn’t hear herself speak. “I...don’t think I can stick around here at all, Tetsu-kun. It’s too painful, and I’m too weak.”

“What are you going to do, then?” His tone was patient and kind, like always. Satsuki wished she could muster the strength to put on a brave face, but _her team_ always managed to strip away all her defenses.

“I’m going to run away for a little,” she admitted, ashamed. “I...I’m sorry for abandoning you, Tetsu-kun. I won’t make any selfish requests of you, like taking care of them...but please, try to take care of yourself?”

“Take care of...myself?” he repeated questioningly.

Satsuki could tell that he didn’t quite understand, but she knew he would eventually. Abruptly, she stood up, laughing and wiping away her tears. “Anyways, Tetsu-kun, if you could try getting those guys off of my case...I’d be really grateful.”

“I’ll do my best, Momoi-san.”

“Mm, thank you~” Satsuki slung her bag over her shoulder, not even bothering to return to school. “Ja, ne.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Uwah~ so even the high and mighty manager has fallen.”

Her voice was chilly, blunt, and harsh. Satsuki didn’t feel like playing around. “What do you want, Haizaki-kun?”

“How cold...I was just saying hello.”

Satsuki sighed, glancing up from her phone. “You dyed your hair,” she commented idly, magenta eyes sweeping over his figure dismissively. “Black looks hideous on you.”

“Blunt as ever,” he snorted. His eyes were sharp, dangerous. Satsuki knew that she should be on her guard, but she somehow wasn’t feeling particularly threatened. Maybe the Generation of Miracles had stolen her soul as well as her spirit. “Did you finally figure out that those guys weren’t worth hanging out with?”

“About as much as you did,” she returned, rolling her eyes. Satsuki already knew that Akashi played an important role in Haizaki’s departure. “Are you done playing around with that girl?”

“Kise-kun’s girlfriend? I dumped her a month ago: she was really annoying,” he drawled, shrugging. “Say, why don’t you go out with me?”

“I’m not interested in being an accessory again, Haizaki-kun,” Satsuki rejected bluntly.

“Why not? Us quitters should stick together, right?” he leered at her, laughing as she shrunk back from him. “It’s rude to refuse such a kind offer.”

Satsuki would not give any ground. “It’s rude to force yourself on a girl you once called your teammate.”

“You? Our teammate? Don’t make me laugh, Sa~tsu~ki,” he purred. “You were just our cheerleader. Inconsequential, really, and essentially useless. Then again, it was fun to steal your snacks, so maybe you weren’t _that_ bad. You and Daiki made decent entertainment, at least.”

“Sacchan!”

“Ah, Micchan, Acchan!” Satsuki blinked, spotting her two female friends. “What are you two doing here?”

“We were heading to the mall, remember?” Acchan scolded. She turned and glared at Haizaki. “Oi, stop bothering Sacchan, Haizaki. Just because you’re bitter about leaving the club doesn’t mean you have to go spreading your bitterness to everyone else. Do you want Akashi-kun to hear about this?”

“Oh, so you’re _threatening_ me with the captain, eh?” he sneered. “Go, then. Run to your precious _Akashi-kun.”_

Kikuchi Atsuko may not have been Teiko’s first string manager, but she _had_ to be strong to endure the constant harassment from Teiko’s female population for managing the third string. Satsuki’s friend hardly faltered as Haizaki drew near, threatening, “Just because I quit martial arts to act as the third string manager doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass, Haizaki.”

Micchan rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone and waving it tauntingly at Haizaki. “We have photographic evidence~ You wouldn’t want that precious private academy you applied to hearing about this, right?”

Haizaki scowled at them, but backed off. “Troublesome women,” he shouted abrasively, storming off.

“Unchivalrous bastard,” Acchan shot back, waving her fist menacingly at the ex-basketball player’s retreating figure. “C’mon, Satsuki. Let’s go,” she demanded.

“That idiot might get ideas if we stay,” Micchan agreed, tugging on her arm. “If he approaches you again, just give us a call, okay? We’ll come running.”

Even...even though Satsuki didn’t have her team’s support, she still had her friends’. A small smile appeared on her face.

“Eh? Ah...okay.”

* * *

 

Somehow, the Generation of Miracles backed off. Satsuki was grateful: undoubtedly, Kuroko had done something. In fact, they hardly interacted with her for several months...until finally, about three weeks before the national tournament (Satsuki couldn’t help but check the date every so often: old habits died hard), Midorima approached her in the hallway.

“Momoi-san, do you have a nail filer?”

Satsuki blinked, tilting her head. He was probably asking because it was his lucky item. “Ah, I do,” she replied out of habit, methodically reaching into her purse. “Please return it to me tomorrow.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

It wasn’t until five minutes later did Satsuki realize that...she had talked to a member of _the team_ without her chest hurting _(significantly)._ Satsuki...Satsuki was moving on from basketball _(and from them)_.

_(At least, that was what she was trying to convince herself of.)_

* * *

 

“Yo, Satsuki.”

It was as if she was talking to a stranger. There was a long, awkward pause as she turned around and tried to find a suitable greeting. Finally, she settled on: “Aomine-kun.”

Evidently, he could feel the awkward tension between them as well. Aomine scowled, shoving his hands into his pockets so he had something to do. “We’re all going to different high schools. You...where are you going?”

“...ah. I’m not sure.”

“You’re...not sure.”

“Dunno, maybe somewhere with high examination scores?” Satsuki shrugged. “It’s about time I focused on my studies more. You should too, Aomine-kun.”

“You should come to Touou.”

“I heard it’s very lively there,” Satsuki replied evasively. She glanced at him, lips tugging upwards into a wry smirk. “And undoubtedly with you, it’ll be even livelier.”

Aomine rolled his eyes, lazily plopping on the bench to sit beside her. “You always know these things,” he complained.

“Akashi-kun’s going to Rakuzan, Kise-kun’s heading to Kaijou, Midorima-kun to Shuutoku, Murasakibara-kun to Yousen, and Kuroko-kun to Seirin,” Satsuki continued, giggling at the scared look on her childhood friend’s face. She was grateful that he didn’t comment about their names, so she elaborated, “It’s pretty hard to _not_ notice when that’s all the girls in class are talking about. Their idols, breaking apart. It’s as if you guys were their favorite boy band or something.”

Aomine scrunched his nose. “I can’t dance.”

“I know you can’t, dummy.” She had seen his dancing first-hand, after all. “Seirin’s too new of a school to have a nice academic program, Yousen’s a mission-kei, Shuutoku’s rather strict, and Kaijou’s very sports-orientated. So I guess I’ll go to either Rakuzan or Touou...then again, there are other options. Maybe I should head to Kirisaki Daiichi.”

 _“That_ school? Really, Satsuki? I thought you had better taste.”

“Their basketball team may be rotten...but their academics are decent,” she said contemplatively.

“Oi! You can’t seriously be considering them.”

“Joking, Dai-chan, joking,” she laughed, unconsciously using his nickname. “I’ll probably go to Touou. Rakuzan’s too far, anyways.”

Aomine slouched, and although she couldn’t see his features, Satsuki liked to pretend that the ease in his shoulders was from relief. “Don’t bother me too much.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

 

Satsuki couldn't help it. On a sunny Saturday afternoon, she was indoors, high in the stands watching the match that would decide the middle school champions.

...well it wasn't exactly a match: it was more of a _massacre._ Satsuki wondered if Akashi had used the notes she submitted with her resignation forms (no need to throw away hard work, after all) to plan a strategy, but looking at the scoreboard, she sorely doubted they needed it.

Satsuki noticed Kuroko wasn't on the bench _or_ on the court. Maybe he had gotten sick of them, too. Or, more likely, he had pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion: he always tried his best, disregarding his health.

Even though the Generation of Miracles was leading by more than a hundred points, the other team refused to give up. Satsuki admired that...and maybe _that_ was why she couldn't help but nudge Acchan and Micchan (both of whom disapproved of coming to the match). “Ne...can you two help me cheer for them?”

Acchan craned her head to give  Satsuki an incredulous look. “Teiko?”

“No, the other team,” Satsuki whispered tremulously. “Everyone's cheering for us, but...doesn't the other team need it more?”

“If we cheer for them, the Teiko fans will run us over,” Micchan deadpanned. Her expression softened, however. Micchan was _kind_ underneath her prickly persona, after all. “We can give them something after the match. They might need it more, then.”

“...ah, how cruel…” Acchan murmured, catching Satsuki’s attention.

“Cruel?” she echoed.

“Can’t you see it, Satsuki? Look at the scoreboard. You should know those boys better than I do.”

The scoreboard was currently at 8-108...

_...oh._

...they hadn’t changed at all, huh.

* * *

 

“Hello, you're Meiko’s small forward, right?” Satsuki asked, shuffling awkwardly. She already knew she was right, of course: Ogiwara Shigehiro, Meiko’s ace. He had impressive statistics, but Satsuki already knew that he was no match for the Generation of Miracles.

The boy straightened, and Satsuki pretended not to notice how suspiciously watery his eyes were. “Who's asking?”

“I'm Momoi Satsuki, Teiko’s...manager,” Satsuki introduced herself, purposefully omitting the fact that she quit. Then, she surprised him by bowing deeply, thrusting out a can of juice as an offering. “I apologize on the behalf of my team! They shouldn't have taken this game lightly...or any game, for the matter. Basketball...isn't just a sport. It’s our _passion,_ and they shouldn’t have disrespected you and trampled on the sport like that.”

Ogiwara flushed, his shoulders straightening just the tiniest bit. “Momoi-san, there's no need to apologize. You aren't responsible for other people's actions…”

“Those people... _are_ my friends, and I failed as both a manager and a friend to them,” Satsuki refuted. Her shoulders slumped. “I'm sorry, Ogiwara-san…”

“It’s fine, really,” Ogiwara reassured her hastily when tears began to pool in her eyes. Boys were always weak against girls’ tears, after all. Awkwardly, he dug into his bag and offered a handkerchief, but Satsuki waved off the offer tearily. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and pulling herself together. Satsuki would be _strong._

“But…” Satsuki cleared her throat, her voice somewhat dry. Satsuki suddenly felt less brave than before, but she barreled on. “Well...you know, I admire you and your team very much.”

 _“Us?”_ Ogiwara laughed bitterly, his voice brittle. His eyes held the same look that many did after facing her team...the one that Satsuki had ignored in the past, simply because losers amounted to _nothing_ and winning was everything. “What's there to like about us?”

Satsuki tilted her head, locking eyes with him. Slowly, a smile curved on her lips. “Your basketball,” she answered wistfully. Then, she gently reached forward to place the can of juice in his hands. “Nice meeting you, Ogiwara-san. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Pivoting on her heel, Satsuki graced the speechless basketball player with one last sad smile before walking away.

* * *

 

_“Hello, Kuroko Tetsuya speaking.”_

_“...Kuroko?”_

_“...Ogiwara-kun?”_

_“...”_

_“Ogiwara-kun...I’m so sorry. I’m sorry...I didn’t...they didn’t have to do that...if I had been there…I’m sorry...this is all my fault...”_

_“...Kuroko...I’m going to be taking a break from basketball.”_

_“...no, that can’t be...not you, Ogiwara-kun...is this because of the match? You can’t quit basketball! You love it!”_

_“...mm.”_

_“...Ogiwara-kun?”_

_“...ahaha...it’s just a break, Kuroko. Don’t get your panties in a twist. I just need some time to...process things…”_

_“...”_

_“...you know, that manager of yours is amazing.”_

_“...are you talking about Momoi-san?”_

_“Mm. If she didn’t come to speak to me after the match...I would’ve spent more time brooding silently…but she reminded me of why I play. I realized that I was beginning to spiral downwards into...dark thoughts, but she pulled me out of them. Your team better appreciate her, Kuroko.”_

_“...ah, yes...we will.”_

_“Yeah, please give her my thanks.”_

_“...I’ll pass on the message...and...Ogiwara-kun?”_

_“Mm?”_

_“...I know this is selfish...but...can we still be friends?”_

_“What are you talking about, Kuroko Tetsuya? We’ll always been friends, idiot. No game’s gonna tear us apart.”_

* * *

 

“I heard he quit.”

“Tet...Kuroko-kun? He’ll be back soon,” Satsuki said confidently, ignoring the exchanged looks between Acchan and Micchan. Feeling oddly defensive, she bristled and repeated herself, “He’ll be fine, guys. Really.”

“Satsuki,” Micchan sighed.

“He’ll...be fine.”

“Sacchan…” Acchan took her hand gently. “Are you okay?”

Satsuki’s face crumbled. “Truthfully? I’m not,” she admitted, her voice wavering. “But...what am I supposed to do?”

“Momoi-san.”

Acchan and Micchan immediately squealed in surprise, jumping ten feet in the air. “Where did _you_ come from?” Micchan exclaimed, her voice high-pitched as she stared at a deadpan Kuroko Tetsuya with widened eyes. “Were you there this entire time?”

“No, I just arrived. May I speak with Momoi-san?”

Satsuki searched Kuroko’s eyes, finding a small sliver of her friend. “Is something the matter, Tetsu-kun?” she asked, standing up and nodding in gratitude at her female friends, who left to give them some privacy. “Are you feeling better? I’m really sorry about the championship…”

Kuroko tilted his head, studying her. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Momoi-san.”

“Right.” Satsuki’s laugh was brittle. “Winning is everything, after all.”

“No...it’s not that. It’s just that there’s nothing for _you_ to be sorry for,” Kuroko refuted, his words sending an electrifying shock down her spine. “In fact, I have to thank you…”

_“Me?”_

“Ogiwara-kun is my childhood friend,” he explained slowly. “Thank you for cheering him up. He says ‘thank you,’ as well. He is...recovering.”

A radiant smile stretched across her face. Satsuki clapped her hands together delightedly, squealing. “Ah, Ogiwara-san is your friend, Tetsu-kun? I had no idea! I’m glad he’s feeling a bit better.”

“Momoi-san.”

“Mm?”

“I’ll bring them back. I promise.”

Satsuki’s smile wavered. “Silly...don’t make promises you can’t keep, Tetsu-kun,” she chided gently. Even though having her team back was all she wanted, Satsuki knew which dreams were futile and which were achievable. It would take nothing short of a miracle to return them to the state they were...and even so, they wouldn’t be _her team_ anymore. They’d be _Kaijou’s_ team, _Seirin’s_ team, _Yousen’s_ team--

“I will.” Kuroko’s gaze was firm. “Then, we’ll all eat ice cream together again, as a team.”

Satsuki paused, but was unable to refute Kuroko’s assertion with such a steadfast gaze pinning her. Instead, she smiled. “Then...I may not be able to help you, but I’ll cheer you on, Tetsu-kun. I’d...I’d like to do that again someday.”

“So would I,” Kuroko admitted quietly. They exchanged smiles, then turned around and walked their separate paths home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psst I'm glad we all worship our queen: she deserves more love and I will GIVE her it  
> pls continue worshipping her with me  
> tyvm :3


	3. Nostalgic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMOI SATSUKI, MY LOVEEEEEEE <3

_ So this is it, huh. _

Somehow, graduation day didn’t feel as exhilarating and short as Satsuki had imagined it to be. In fact, it felt extremely long and uncomfortable. Since Satsuki’s parents were abroad for a business trip, Aomine accompanied her to school it what might be the second-most awkward walk she’d ever taken with her childhood friend. (The most awkward walk was the one when Satsuki had to painfully explain the wonders of menstruation to Aomine after some oblivious questions.)

They filed into the gym two at a time, and somehow Satsuki had ended up walking alongside a puppy-eyed Kise. As if Fate had decided to work against her, she found herself seated behind Murasakibara; the following half hour was a constant struggle for Satsuki to maintain her rigid, polite seated position while also attempting to see the speakers.

Then came the actual distribution of the diplomas; Satsuki’s walk up to the podium was accompanied by raucous cheers that were  _ definitely not appropriate for a middle school graduation, Dai-chan! _

And now, the principal was about ten minutes into a long, tedious speech about hard work and dedication. His speech would probably be followed by several students an several graduation songs. Satsuki inwardly groaned and reminded herself to not turn around to look at the clock.

“—Akashi.”

Immediately, Satsuki glanced upwards and recognized the mop of red hair standing before the podium. Akashi looked calm and collected, as always; in retrospect, she probably should have predicted this. Akashi had the best grades in the student body: it was obvious that such a stellar student would be given the chance to speak.

“They say that in life, there are wins and losses,” Akashi said softly, the speakers carrying his voice across the entire gym. Everyone in the audience was silent: their captain always had a gravitas to him able to silence and captivate at once. “In Teiko, some of us may have experienced some losses. But those losses made us stronger; those losses made us into who we are today. Those losses have given us the strength to do what is most important:  _ win. _ Some of us have crawled from the very bottom to the top.”

Akashi paused, his eyes flickering towards someone in the audience. Satsuki didn’t doubt for a second that he was speaking of Kuroko. “Others,” he continued, “started at the top and continued to push themselves past their limits. Even as we move forward into high school, our experiences in Teiko will remain with us. Wear your pins, the symbol of your victory over Teiko’s seemingly insurmountable challenges, with honor. No matter which school we will be attending, we will  _ always _ be students from Teiko Middle School. And no matter what kind of situations we may face, we will do what Teiko students are meant to do:  _ win. _ So, go. Advance. Win.  _ Conquer.” _

Akashi nodded at the principal, the silence in the room still audibly permeable. “That is all.”

Although the speech sounded like a graduation speech...Satsuki bit back a laugh. It...it was so  _ Akashi. (Not her Akashi, though.) _

* * *

 

“Stop scowling, Daiki! Your frown will be permanently etched on your face if you keep doing that!”

“Stand a little closer, you two. How am I supposed to take a proper picture if you two are five feet apart?”

“Ugh, that’s  _ it!”  _ Aomine growled, grabbing Satsuki’s arm. “Come on, Satsuki. We’re leaving these old geezers.”

“Dai—Aomine-kun, wait!” Satsuki protested, stumbling after him. “Slow down, you jerk!”

The two trudged along the corridor in relatively comfortable silence. Satsuki was used to Aomine’s parent-induced mood swings; they were usually too noisy and “bothersome” in his eyes. They turned the corner, only to see a group of girls squealing loudly. Satsuki inwardly moaned, tugging on Aomine’s sleeve in an attempt to pull him back into the previous hallway, but it was already too late.

“Aominecchi! Momocchi!” Kise exclaimed, his expression openly conveying his relief as he managed to make his way past his group of fangirls. Directing a blinding smile at the girls, he explained sheepishly, “Sorry, but since today is my last day here, I’d really like to spend time with my friends. Thank you all for your support, though!”

“But Kise-senpai!” one of the girls piped up. “Who are you going to give your ribbon to?”

They were referring to Teiko’s graduating tradition; since the boy’s uniform didn’t have buttons, the male students had taken to giving away their school ties instead of their second buttons as confessions.

“My ribbon?” Kise blinked, then shrugged and tugged his tie off his school uniform nonchalantly. Bounding over to Aomine and Satsuki, he plopped it right in her hands. “Well, I guess Momocchi’s my most important girl~ Rather than my sis, of course, but she’d laugh at me if I gave it to her.”

Satsuki tried not to shrink back under the combined force of his fangirls’ glares.  _ “Ki-chan,”  _ Satsuki scolded, the nickname unintentionally slipping out. She paused, shooting Kise a glare for the victorious grin he sent her.  _ “Kise-kun,” _ she corrected herself, “You’re only supposed to give this ribbon to the girl you like.”

“But I like  _ you,  _ Momocchi,” Kise whined, slinging an arm over her shoulder. The position was somewhat uncomfortable since the blonde was growing taller at an exponential rate (as were the other boys, who had finally reached their growth spurts). “Who else would I give it to?”

Satsuki rolled her eyes, flicking him on the forehead contritely. Even so, she relented,  “Okay, okay. I get it.” With exaggerated movements, she placed the ribbon in her bag. “There, happy?”

“How can you be so nonchalant with my feelings, Momocchi?” Kise sobbed dramatically.

“Oi, Satsuki. Catch.”

Satsuki blinked, but grabbed the flying projectile out of instinct; even though she  _ rarely _ played basketball anymore, she used to catch wayward basketballs from Aomine all the time. “Not you too, Dai...Aomine-kun,” she complained, examining her newly acquired ribbon. Unlike Kise’s, it was much more wrinkled, a testament to her childhood friend’s messy nature. She was preoccupied with putting away the ribbons, which was why she didn’t notice him approach until he stood directly behind them.

“Momoi.”

Immediately, all three of them froze. “Akashi-kun,” Satsuki acknowledged, the first to recover. She turned around to face the red-haired basketball player. “Your speech was very inspiring; I think everyone immediately began planning to attend cram school so we’d meet your expectations.”

“Of course: my orders are absolute.”

Satsuki gave him a half-smile. “Is there...something you need, Akashi-kun?”

Akashi stared at her, and for a moment Satsuki thought that both his eyes were crimson instead of gold and magenta. “Your data...was a valuable asset to the team,” he said reluctantly.

And although it wasn’t a “thank you for your hard work,” “I’ll miss the evenings of coffee and tea when we would review data together,” or even a “good luck in Touou,” Satsuki found herself tearing up. It was easy to believe that they were back in the past with Aomine and Kise  _ (Dai-chan and Ki-chan)  _ standing rod-stiff in front of their intimidating captain, but the truth was that they  _ weren’t _ in the past. Time was moving forward...even if she wasn’t ready to accept it. 

Satsuki...she might not like the new Akashi as much as she liked the one she originally befriended, but ultimately, Akashi was still her  _ friend _ (no matter which personality he had).

And she probably wouldn’t see him for more than once a year, if she was lucky. With Akashi heading all the way to Kyoto and no team gatherings in the near future, this might be the last time she would see him...for...a long while…

Satsuki couldn’t help it: her body moved on its own, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around her peer  _ (her captain). _ “I’ll see you later, Akashi-kun,” Satsuki whispered, mortified to realize that her voice was suspiciously wobbly. She drew back. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Momoi,” Akashi deadpanned. There was a brief pause that could even count as hesitation, but nobody would ever dare accuse the Akashi heir of such. “Take care of yourself, as well.”

The four members of the basketball club lingered awkwardly in the hallway, unsure of what to say next.

Akashi spoke first. “Daiki. Ryouta. Remember our promise.”

“Mm.” “Yeah.”

“...ne, Akacchi! Why don’t you give Momocchi your ribbon, too?” Kise asked brightly, perking up. “We can all give her ours.”

“Why would I intentionally blemish my school uniform for such a sentimental reason?”

“But  _ Akacchi,” _ Kise protested, his arms over his chest. Akashi observed Kise for a moment and probably realized that it was easier to give her the tie then deal with a sulking Kise.

Their red-haired captain gave a long, suffering sigh before swiftly removing his tie from his neck and holding it out to her. “Here, Momoi.”

“Um, thank you,” Satsuki managed. What was she supposed to do with three ties?

“Tie two of them around your wrists.”

“Gahhh! Kurokocchi, you can’t just pop up like that!”

There was enough tension between the basketball players that Satsuki could probably cut the atmosphere with a knife. “Momoi-san, please take mine as well,” Kuroko intoned, handing her his neatly folded tie. “I believe Murasakibara-kun and Midorima-kun are just around the corner, if you’d like the entire set.”

“Mou, Tetsu-kun, I’m not a  _ tie collector!”  _ Satsuki protested, shooting them all a glare. Everyone was going to assume things.  _ Again! _ “It’s fine. I should probably say goodbye to them, though...especially since Murasakibara-kun is heading to Yousen…”

“Ahh? Is everyone meeting without us?”

“I see you’ve collected a large amount of ties, Momoi-san. Ties are Taurus's lucky item for today. You should keep them close.”

“Speak of the devil,” Aomine muttered.

Midorima ignored him, turning to face Satsuki. “Momoi-san, ties are unlucky for Cancer today. Please take mine.”

“I don’t need mine anymore, anyways,” Murasakibara said lazily, dropping his tie in her hands.

“Ah, wait! Mukkun, Midorin!” Satsuki protested. The pile of ties in her hands grew. “Really, I’m alright.”

“Nonsense. Oha-Asa said that Cancers should act generously today if possible,” Midorima refuted, adjusting the position of his glasses.

“Ties are annoying,” Murasakibara complained. “If you don’t take it, I’ll just throw it away.”

Satsuki deflated. “Alright...thank you…”

There was another pause in the conversation as everyone stared at each other, unwilling to make the first move.

“Sacchan!”

“Ah, Micchan, Acchan!” Satsuki exclaimed, relieved. Her two female friends paused, taking in the sight of the pinkette amongst her towering friends. To her relief, they didn’t say anything demeaning.

“You must be Sacchan’s team. I’m Arai Miki,” Micchan said, nodding. Since the Generation of Miracles hardly paid attention to the second and third string, they probably didn’t recognize the two former managers. “I’ll be attending Touou next year with Sacchan.”

“Kikuchi Atsuko. I’m heading to Fukuda Sougou,” Acchan introduced herself. Then, she paused, a mad glint developing in her eyes that usually signalled an incoming shopping spree or fight. Satsuki knew that mischievous, excited look: nothing good came out of it. “Hey, while I’m at it...Miki and I have been arranging a Teiko get-together for next year. It’s after your guys’...um, Winter Cup? Yeah. We can have Sacchan mail you the details, but keep an eye out for that!”

Satsuki blinked, having not heard of  _ anything _ of the sort, but was smart enough not to question her friend. “Yeah...it’d be a lot of fun to see you all, again,” Satsuki said warmly.

“Unfortunately, it depends on my schedule. Kyoto’s quite far away,” Akashi replied impassively. Satsuki knew that was his way of declining without being upfront.

“Same~ coming all the way over here is way too troublesome for some playdate,” Murasakibara yawned. The rest of the players murmured their agreement. Satsuki tried not to wilt at the rejections, but her female friends noticed.

“Still, we’ll have Sacchan mail you guys around that time. Who knows? Maybe you’ll change your minds.” Acchan shrugged, smirking at them. “Besides me, the only other student from Teiko heading to Fukuda Sougou is  _ Haizaki, _ so I’d like to schedule a meet-up with our peers sometime to remind myself that not all of us Teiko kids are assholes.”

“Atsuko, your parents are calling,” Micchan pointed out, nodding at the girl’s ringing phone. “We’ll be leaving, now. Please consider our offer. See you next week, Sacchan: don’t forget to bring your swimsuit.”

“Ahh, right,” Satsuki replied distractedly. “Bye, Micchan, Acchan.”

“See ya!” Acchan called, waving at Satsuki and her male companions.

“You’re heading to the beach, then?” Midorima asked after a lengthy moment of silence.

“Mm, Micchan’s uncle lives in Kanagawa and he invited her to bring along some friends,” Satsuki replied, shrugging nonchalantly. Her eyes still trailed after her friends’ retreating figures. However, Satsuki wasn’t oblivious to the way that Midorima’s lips pressed downwards and even  _ Aomine _ shifted with uncertainty. “What?” she demanded, eyeing the strangely quiet basketball team warily.

“You’re  _ weird,  _ Satsuki,” Aomine replied immediately.

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?” she squawked, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “Just because I may not go out with them  _ that _ often doesn’t mean I don’t have female friends.”

“We were under the impression that you  _ had _ no female friends, Momoi-san,” Kuroko explained regretfully. “Especially since Aomine-kun usually monopolizes your attention.”

His statement immediately elicited a flurry of protests and commotion.

“Uwahh, Kurokocchi’s right! That’s unfair, Aominecchi!”

“I don’t  _ monopolize _ her.”

“You totally do, Aominecchi!”

_ “Ryouta. Daiki.” _

“Y-yes!”

“Stop acting—”

“KYAAA, IT’S THE GENERATION OF MIRACLES ALL TOGETHER!”

Simultaneously, they all paled.

“Oh  _ shit,  _ run!”

“Oi, Murasakibara! Use your height to distract them!”

“Ehh? Why?”

“Yeah, hurry, Murasakibaracchi!”

“But they’re  _ your _ annoying fangirls…”

“They’re  _ all of ours.” _

“I knew I shouldn’t have worn my pin...Oha-Asa said that wearing any sort of floral designs was unlucky for Cancers today…”

“They wouldn’t have let you graduate then, dumbass!”

“Shut up and  _ run,  _ Dai-chan!”

_ “I order you all to stop dragging me.” _

“Do you  _ want _ to be caught by fangirls?”

“My orders are absolute.”

“Agh, just hurry up and get in here, then. Close the door, Tetsu!”

“I’m not sure if—”

_ “Close it!” _

_ Slam. _

Silence.

“Oww, Kurokocchi, are you the one elbowing me?”

“No, Kise-kun. I believe that’s Midorima-kun.”

“Midorimacchi, move!”

“I’m already pressed against the wall, Kise.”

“Then...Aominecchi!”

“I’ll squish Akashi if I do!”

“But—”

“If any of you move one centimeter closer to me, I’ll kill you.”

Silence.

“Geez, way to ruin the mood, captain.”

“Shut up, Ryouta.”

“Dai-chan, stop messing with my hair!”

“That’s not me!’

“Ahh, sorry, Momochin. The closet is too small.”

“Whose stupid idea was it to hide in this dumb closet, anyways?”

“...it was yours, Aomine-kun.”

“...right.”

Silence.

“Ne...now that I think about it...it’s been awhile since we’ve done this, huh?”

“I am fairly certain that it’s our first time ever hiding in a closet together, Kise-kun.”

“No, it’s not that, Kurokocchi. I mean...we used to do all sorts of crazy things before, but it feels as if we haven’t done anything in ages…”

“Fooling around does not contribute to victory.”

“But Akashicchi...weren’t those times fun?”

“They were obstacles preventing us from victory.”

“Ah...yeah…”

Silence again, this time a bit more thoughtful.

“Ne, Momochin. Why’d you leave?”

Silence once more.

“...I’m tired of basketball, Mukkun.”

“Cut the bullshit, Satsuki.”

“...it’s true, though.”  _ It tore us apart. (It brought us together, too.) _

“So...will you be assisting Touou’s basketball team?”

“...I don’t think so, Midorima-kun.”

“Tch, doesn’t matter anyways. We’ll still win: the only one who can beat me is me.”

“Or, probably Akashi-kun.”

“Shut up, Satsuki.”

“...ne, Kurokocchi...why did...you?”

“I’m sorry, Kise-kun. I do not feel comfortable sharing that with you all today.”

“Then...which school are you going to?”

“I’m afraid I do not want to disclose that information, either. I would like to live my highschool life without harassment, Kise-kun.”

_ “Harassment? Me?”  _

“...”

“...how cruel, Kurokocchi…”

“...say, I think the fangirls have gone away.”

“...now that you mention it, Momoi, it’s quiet outside.”

“...alright. Atsushi can go out first as our shield in case they’re planning to ambush us.”

“Ehh? Don’t wanna.”

“That’s not a request. It’s a command, and  _ I am absolute, Atsushi.” _

“...”

“Also...we will never speak of this incident again. Understood?”

_ “Yes!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intentionally left the ending scene solely dialogue because it really does speak for itself. :)  
> It's very bittersweet and somewhat nostalgic; don't be fooled, though, our GoM are still jerks for now lol.  
> Confused, dorky jerks, but jerks nonetheless.
> 
> Dedicated to our birthday girl, queen, and pink-haired Miracle.  
> Feel free to leave a comment ;)


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